Transcriber's note.
This etext was produced from Astounding Science Fiction Magazine February and March 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the copyright on this publication was renewed.
TIME CRIME
BY H. BEAM PIPER
First of Two Parts. The Paratime Police had a real headache thistime! Tracing one man in a population of millions is easy—comparedto finding one gang hiding out on one of billions of probability lines!
Illustrated by Freas
ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION
Kiro Soran, the guard captain, stood in the shadow of the verandaroof, his white cloak thrown back to display the scarlet lining. Herubbed his palm reflectively on the checkered butt of his revolver andwatched the four men at the table.
"And ten tens are a hundred," one of the clerks in blue jackets said,adding another stack to the pile of gold coins.
"Nineteen hundreds," one of the pair in dirty striped robes agreed,taking a stone from the box in front of him and throwing it away. Onlyone stone remained. "One more hundred to pay."
One of the blue-jacketed plantation clerks made a tally mark; hiscompanion counted out coins, ten and ten and ten.
Dosu Golan, the plantation manager, tapped impatiently on his polishedboot leg with a thin riding whip.
"I don't like this," he said, in another and entirely differentlanguage. "I know, chattel slavery's an established custom on thissector, and we have to conform to local usages, but it sickens me tohave to haggle with [Pg 3]these swine over the price of human beings. Onthe Zarkantha Sector, we used nothing but free wage-labor."
"Migratory workers," the guard captain said. "Humanitarianconsiderations aside, I can think of a lot better ways of meeting thelabor problem on a fruit plantation than by buying slaves you need forthree months a year and have to feed and quarter and clothe and doctorthe whole twelve."
"Twenty hundreds of obus," the clerk who had been counting the moneysaid. "That is the payment, is it not, Coru-hin-Irigod?"
"That is the payment," the slave dealer replied.
The clerk swept up the remaining coins, and his companion took themover and put them in an iron-bound chest, snapping the padlock. Thetwo guards who had been loitering at one side slung their rifles andpicked up the chest, carrying it into the plantation house. The slavedealer and his companion arose, putting their money into a leatherbag; Coru-hin-Irigod turned and bowed to the two men in white cloaks.
"The slaves are yours, noble lords," he said.
Across the plantation yard, six more men in striped robes, withcarbines slung across their backs, approached; with them came anotherman in a hooded white cloak, and two guards in blue jackets and redcaps, with bayoneted rifles. The man in white and his armed attendantscame toward the house; the six Calera slavers continued across theyard to where their horses were picketed.
"If I do not offend the noble lords, then," Coru-hin-Irigod said, "Ibeg their sufferance to depart. I and my men have far to ride if wewould reach Careba by nightfall. The Lord, the Great Lord, the LordGod Safar watch between us until we meet again."<